


I Told You

by Moransroar



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cooking, M/M, teehee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3427280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian and Jim know very well that Jim is a terrible cook.<br/>Naturally, Jim feels the need to prove himself despite the sniper's beliefs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Told You

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble for my lovely Tumblr friend Ravens-feathers <3  
> Happy birthdaaay :D
> 
> (If you want a ficlet for you birthday too, and you have a Tumblr, go to moransroar.tumblr.com/ask and shoot me a message with your birthday ;) )

“Nah, Jim’s not the best cook, are you?" 

Sebastian should never have said that when Jim was right there with him.

They had been at a party, some sort of dull necessary gathering to keep up certain appearances towards their associates over at Bloomsbury. Admittedly, they both had a little bit to drink when the clock struck twelves, but neither minded because that only made the people who were there as well seem more friendly and sociable and the time go faster. They had actually been chatting to other people, and Jim seemed to love introducing Sebastian as his partner. In crime as well as the domestic sense. 

A small group of ladies had approached them, perhaps a little overly curious about their relationship, but a little bit of liquid courage gave that they could talk freely about most things. 

Yes, they shared a bed. 

No, they did not like involving other men or women when it came to sexual intimacy. Not too often, at least. They had each other, didn’t they? 

Yes, they wore each other’s clothes every now and again. Although Jim wore Sebastian’s tee shirts more often than vice versa, considering the differences in their body height as well as breadth.

And then came the subject of household and cooking and cleaning, and they decided that Sebastian was the one to almost always cook and clean. Sometimes, on the very rare occasion did Jim do some of the cleaning like vacuuming the living room or doing the dishes, but he preferred getting to work over getting his hands dirty.

There was a sort of routine with them. Sebastian cooked, set the table, they ate, Sebastian cleared the table and did the dishes (sometimes with the company of Jim sitting on the counter, being distracting as per usual), Jim went into the living room to watch television or continue working and Sebastian made them tea. That was, if the sniper didn’t have a job to do, in which case Jim would either order in or wouldn’t eat until Sebastian were to come home.

They were quite domestic like that, but neither man minded. Not in the least.

That night, they had gone home giggling and red-cheeked, leaning against one another and sharing sloppy kisses, eventually ending the night with a bit of playful toss and tumble.

Spent and exhausted, Sebastian was the first to fall asleep. Jim, however, lay brooding for a while, curled up against Sebastian’s side as he concentrated on the man’s steady breathing and watched the light of the moon shine against the back of the drapes.

The next morning, Jim was the first one to wake up, simply because he had told himself so the night before. Six in the morning, he figured that would be enough time since Sebastian wouldn’t have to wake up until eight.

It was a bit of a task to be able to wriggle himself free from the sniper’s sleepy embrace, but it is so much easier than when the man is actually awake (even though he is quite heavy).

Jim has an odd sense of pride, in a way. He likes to prove people wrong whenever he has the chance, and this would be the perfect opportunity. They normally had a few pieces of toast or a fried egg for breakfast, but that wouldn’t do this time. The criminal scavenged through the kitchen in search of the ingredients he thought he would need. Oh how he would prove Sebastian wrong.

The frying pan clattered on the stove, and Jim cringed at the sound as he froze to try and hear if he had accidentally woken Sebastian. No sound came from the bedroom, so he continued his search through the kitchen and in the fridge. In the latter, he found sausages and mushrooms, piling it all on the kitchen counter along with the eggs, onions, tomatoes and cheese.

Satisfied with the ingredients of his choosing, Jim began with the cutting of the mushrooms, tomatoes and finally the onions. The latter brought traitorous tears to his stinging eyes, but he kept going stubbornly.

In the heated frying pan, he melted a little chunk of butter and let it grease up the surface before he threw in the sausages. They sizzled quietly and spread a lovely scent through the kitchen, so Jim hurried to the door and closed it before some of that smell would reach Sebastian and surely wake him up.

Sebastian was sensitive in his senses, and any sort of stimulation roused a certain reaction with him. Scents when he was asleep, for instance, would most likely wake him up with a particular mood. Alarmed if it was a vile stench, curious when it was something of nutrition.

When the sausages seemed to be done, Jim got them out and cut them in pieces as big as the tomatoes, and he added all vegetables and the meat together to go into the pan. Next, he got out a whisker and broke a few eggs in a bowl to whisk them until little bubbles floated to the surface of the mixture. He had no idea about spices, so he figured he might as well simply add salt and pepper instead of something of the small pots on the shelves.

Jim poured the egg mixture into the pan as well. See, that wasn’t so difficult? All he had to do now was wait until the eggs were cooked and they would have a lovely breakfast. For good measure, Jim put a few pieces of toast in the toaster on the counter, watching it closely to make sure it wouldn’t burn.

But then he realised tea was a given with a breakfast extensive such as this, so he filled the electric kettle and set it to boil while carefully preparing both of their mugs. Sebastian liked one sugar in his tea, and milk only depending on what flavour it was. Earl Grey went great with a splash of the dairy to make it a soft beige goodness. Jim liked his tea with a hint of milk and two sugars, since he had a bit more of a sweet tooth than Sebastian did. He had rather put in six spoonful’s of sugar but –as Sebastian had advised him so many times- that was incredibly bad for his health.

The lovely scent of egg and sausages began to penetrate the air around him, and Jim felt quite proud to have managed to come this far without burning the house down. The toast was a bit on the dark side, though, but nothing inedible. He covered them in a thin layer of strawberry jam before finishing the tea, checking the frying pan to see that the mixture was still as liquid as before. Jim frowned a little at that because he had hoped that it would have been cooked by now, so he turned up the flame of the stove and hummed his content.

Next for him was setting the table, and that was such an easy task that he thought he would be able to do it with his eyes closed. That was one of the things he did a little more often than not when Sebastian was cooking, and he mostly did it because it earned the approval of the sniper.

 

And very often a kiss.

 

Back at the stove, the egg mixture was still pretty much entirely liquid, the pieces of tomato and sausage and mushroom floating around in it. With a small yelp, he realised that he had forgotten the cheese, and he quickly got out the grated cheese and sprinkled it over the contents of the frying pan, after which he put on a lid.

Like a proud kid wanting to show its mother he had made a big sand castle on the beach, Jim tiptoed excitedly to the bedroom and slithered to the bed to climb on the still sleeping figure of his partner.

“Rise and shine, Tiger.”

Sebastian groaned lowly, hands coming up to rub at his eyes before he opened them and looked up at Jim. “Morning,” grumbled he.

Jim dipped down, laying his body over the length of Sebastian’s so they are face-to-face, and he smiled a Cheshire grin. “I’ve made breakfast. Come quick.”

That is something that almost immediately rouses Sebastian from his sleepy state, because when did Jim ever go through such trouble as to make breakfast. Glancing to the side, he found that it was just past nine, and he gave a surprised hum. Jim must’ve gotten up rather early to prepare him something.

“Lovely,” Sebastian said as he rolls them over so he is on top and is able to slip off the bed after a chaste kiss, finding his pants and a pair of sweatpants to put on.

“Don’t be sarcastic,” Jim murmured, and Sebastian turned to flash him a sincere smile while hooking one arm in the crook of Jim’s knees and the other around his back, lifting him in the air bridal style.

“I’m not,” the blond reassured the smaller man of, “I’m genuinely surprised if not proud that you took the time to make us breakfast.”

Jim seemed to be content with that, and Sebastian seemed it safe to carry the criminal to the kitchen where the frying pan was now smoking enthusiastically from under the lid, letting out small bursts of dark grey steam through the small hole in the glass surface. Beneath the lid, nothing could be seen but a thick blanket of grey, and Jim’s first response was a sharp intake of breath.

 

And then a deep, heavy sigh.

 

Sebastian chuckled quietly as he put Jim down and quickly went to the stove to take off the lid and set the smoke free, waving with his free hand to get it to evaporate.

“Open a window, would you?” He asked Jim, and the latter immediately shuffled to the window to turn the handle and let it swing open, letting the cold air in and the polluted air out.

The sniper turned down the flame and wrestled the spatula between the still half-liquid egg mixture and the pan, finding the bottom of the omelette was heavily burnt and stuck to the pan. Nevertheless, he managed to flip the entire thing, showing the scorched bottom.

Jim joined Sebastian by the stove, pouting a little as he saw what had happened to his once so magnificent creation.

“Oh don’t worry, we can fix this,” Sebastian said softly, turning his head to press his lips briefly to Jim’s temple. He got out a knife, and began cutting off the black surface with careful precision. Underneath was the light yellow colour of the egg, now cooked to near perfection. “See?”

That seemed to cheer up the sulking criminal, and he beamed up at Sebastian with a too big and too proud grin when taking into account that he had actually managed to let an omelette burn the blackest Sebastian had ever seen, entirely turned to coal.

 

“I told you I can cook.”

 

“Next time, don’t put the flame on full force,” Sebastian snickered with a shake of his head, getting rid of the layer of coal before handing the knife to the other man and inclining his head towards the omelette in the pan.

“Will you do the honours?”

Jim smiled, still proud, and took hold of the offered knife to turn it on the food.

 

“With pleasure.”


End file.
